in aeternum
by AxelCat
Summary: The sequel tangere corpus. Trigger warnings for sexual assault, swearing, and adult themes.


'_Blaine, can you please pick up your phone... I know it's on, please, please... I need to talk to you.'_

'_Love, please... please. Please, pick up your phone. I know you're busy, but this is urgent!'_

'_Blaine, I need you to come h-home! Please... please, pl-please, pl-please... one of the boys in my English class... he... he slammed me up a-against the wall - he g-groped me... please, ba-baby, pick up your phone! I need yo-you here!'_

'_Bl-Blaine, I can't breathe, I'm hy-hyperventilating. I can't... I do-don't know wh-what to do. Please, p-pick up your phone. Please, co-come home.'_

'_B-B-Blaine, pl-please. Pl-please. Please, I'm be-begging you, p-please...'_

Blaine's heart raced as he heard his fiancé's shaking voice, but he still shut his phone and turned back to Sebastian, with a tight smile on his face. "Sebastian, I'm going to have to leave you on your own for the rest of the afternoon. One of my family members is in a bit of a mess, and it seems we've hit a dead end. I'll be back in at five tomorrow, I swear."

The man glowered down at him and gave him a short nod. "Fine. If you think you can come up with a resolution for Mister Kent's problem while making sure Kurt doesn't kill himself, you can go," he snapped.

Blaine just sighed and took his jacket from the back of his seat. "_Thank you," _he snapped back.

Of course, that day, there would be traffic. Of course there would be. Blaine toyed with his engagement ring as he waited for the traffic to unclog. He and Kurt lived half an hour away from the office, in a small, yet relatively nice apartment. Blaine almost wanted to call him, but he didn't know what he could possibly do. He had been awake since four in the morning, and it was almost four in the afternoon. He was tired like he hadn't been since his senior year examinations, and he truly wasn't in the state to manage with one of Kurt's panic attacks. They had been getting less and less frequent, but he was still a little unstable. He hadn't been so distressed for months - nine months, to be exact, and that was only when he had had an encounter with his former abuser. Kurt had been beaten so severely that he was rendered to a state of mental emptiness, and muteness. He lived for nothing but his family, for a time and had only learned to speak fluently again after two years of recovery time. Kurt's stutter, at first, had been so prominent that he opted not to speak at all in his junior year, that was, until he met Blaine. Blaine had been his light in the dark - his saviour. They were each others' saviours, really - they drew each other out of their shells, comforted and loved their other half. That was all they could do, truly.

This wasn't what Blaine was thinking about, though. Blaine was thinking of politicians, sexual assault, money and blackmail. Blaine had never wanted to take up law as an occupation, but his mother and father had sworn to him that if he held out for the seven years after he graduated high school, then his trust fund of almost one million dollars would be his. It was blackmail, in its own right, but he and Kurt... they didn't desperately need the money, but it would be nice to have a bedroom larger than the size of their bed. There was only one year to go, then.

Kurt was working at a public high school in the centre of New York. It paid very little, but he was determined, and he was admittedly very good at what he did. Sometimes he had to manage with a homophobic student, or attempted bullying, but ultimately, he loved what he did. He was helping so many students, even if it was only one at a time.

Blaine pulled up in the parking lot, and jogged to the door. It was unlocked, thankfully, and even outside, he could hear Kurt's breathless sobs. His heart ached even more than it had earlier, and he ran into the bedroom. Kurt was curled up on his side, fist in his mouth, blood pouring from his knuckles, half-naked body wet with water and sweat. He had showered as soon as he got home, trying to wash the feeling of filth, of disgust from his skin, but it was all in vain. He couldn't control the flash-backs, the terror, or the sobs. He was cold-sweating with fear, and his shuddering breaths shook the entire bed.

Blaine came up behind him, careful to make his steps loud and clear - he didn't want to scare Kurt by touching him. It was like a drill - he knew what he needed to do. He didn't see it as a token of his affections, comforting him, but more as a responsibility. Or that's how he tried to see it - as soon as he heard his lover's sobs, his heart clenched, and he almost forgot what he was meant to do. "Kurt..." he breathed. He kicked off his shoes, and clambered into the bed beside him. He put both arms around his waist, and a brief thought flashed into his mind of wanting to take his suit off before it got dirty. It was ignored. "Oh god, kitten..." He pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, holding him close and secure.

"I di-didn't know what t-t-to do. I was s-so scared, Bee! H-he just came up-up behind me wh-when everyone else was go-gone, and he sho-shoved me up against the bo-board... he gr-grabbed a handful of my arse and just whispered in my ea-ear 'I want to fuck you, Mister H,' and I just coul-couldn't breathe- Blaine, I'm so _sorry._I feel so... I feel l-like I cheated, I fe-feel dirty, and disgusting, yo-you don't have to touch me. I'm ju-just a sick fag, and I do-don't deserve the ri-right to live, and-" Blaine turned his fiancé over as carefully as if he were made of glass. He pressed their foreheads together, and stared into Kurt's shimmering eyes.

"You, Kurt Hummel, are amazing. You are beautiful, you are precious, you are talented and you are so, so strong. You _didn't_ cheat, and I swear to God that I will get that boy arrested if it kills me. He was wrong to do that to you. He was wrong to say that to you. It doesn't mean anything about _you_, baby... you are this... perfect, insanely perfect person, who has bad things happen to him. It doesn't make you sick, or disgusting, or wrong, or bad. It just means that you have to be the strong person you are and _hold on._ You need to stay strong, Kurt... come on, look at me." Blaine pulled Kurt's hand from his mouth, and blood dripped onto his shirt. "You need to breathe, baby. Come on, breathe with me. In and out, just slowly... come on, it's okay. You're safe now. I'm never going to let anything like this happen to you again. Ever, ever, ever..." he whispered. He pressed his lips to Kurt's head and kept whispering soft words of comfort into his hair.

Eventually, when Kurt's breathing was steady, he pulled back to the bedside table to take a wad of tissues into his hand. He dipped them into the glass of water that rest there and took Kurt's hand into one of his own. He began to clean the bite-wounds, all the while whispering soft words under his breath.

Kurt just lay there, tears trickling down his cheeks. It wasn't as severe as last time - it was still horrific, though.

Blaine rid himself of his jacket, carefully hanging it up on a coat-hanger before crawling into bed with his lover. "I'm so sorry life is so cruel, Kurt."

"I'm sorry I can-can't be better for you... I wi-wish I cou-could just b-be nor-normal again, fo-for you..." He was starting to hyperventilate again.

Blaine pressed a finger to his lips and cradled Kurt close from his lower back. "Hey, no... no, no, no... I love you just the way you are. 'Cause boy you're beautiful, incredible... just the way you are..." he sang quietly. A look of content - not even a smile - appeared on Kurt's face, and he nuzzled in against his fiancé's throat. "And baby, you make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream, the way you hold me tight, so let's run away and don't ever look back, ever look back..." Blaine kept singing, mashing together songs from their teens into one lullaby. From 'The One That Got Away,' to 'Angel' and 'My Immortal,' to 'Baby, It's Cold Outside,' and finally to 'Ave Maria...' he sang.

As soon as Kurt was soundly asleep, he tucked him in under the blankets and slid out of his work-clothes. He went out into the living room and stared longingly at the television, wishing he could just curl up on the couch and relax for a little while, but there was a pile of paperwork the _size_ of a television on his desk. Well, that was the set task for the night, of course.

Kurt woke up at four thirteen in the morning, quite precisely. He couldn't even begin to think past the disgusting feeling all over his skin, let alone wonder where Blaine was. He stumbled into the bathroom, and without taking off his boxers, stepped into the shower.

He turned the water up to full-blast, and as hot as it would go. He felt like his skin was crawling with minuscule bugs, and he was shaking to the extent that he kept stumbling. It took another solid ten minutes after his stumbling entrance to the shower to feel sufficiently clean. He dressed in a pair of pale blue boxers and one of Blaine's too-large t-shirts, still too unstable to really think of, let alone put together, a reasonable outfit.

He wiped his sleepy eyes, just trying to get back to himself. He couldn't think straight, yet, but he needed Blaine with him. He made his clumsy way out into the living room, and immediately smiled as he saw his boyfriend face-down on the desk, sound asleep. He made himself a cup of coffee before calling Sebastian Smythe Senior, only to be answered by Sebastian Smythe Junior. "Hi, Blaine! You'll be here in about half an hour, right? Great, well, I've got to go-"

"Sebastian, it's Kurt."

There was silence. "Oh. What is it, Kurt? If you need to sue Karofsky, I can't help you, but-"

Kurt was in no mood for his nonsense. "Blaine's not coming in today. He's been up until about three, and he's been getting up at five or six, for the past... month. He's getting sick, Sebastian Smythe, and it's your fault. So, he's not coming in today."

"Have you asked him about this?" Sebastian asked, almost with legitimate curiousity.

"I'm his fiancé, I think I have some say in the matter on my own," Kurt snapped back. "That's final, Sebastian. He's only an a new-comer, you and your father have at least thirty more qualified lawyers than him that can do his job up until at least noon. He has about twenty holidays that's he's skipped, I think you can give him this."

"Fine," was snapped back. "Give him my best wishes."

"God knows I won't," Kurt said quietly, combing Blaine's hair with his fingers. "Goodbye, Smythe."

"Goodbye, Hummel." Sebastian went to say something else, but Kurt hung up before he got a chance to finish.

"Hm..." Blaine was waking up, little scowl on his face. "Go 'way. Sleepy."

Kurt just smiled and kissed his head. "Can I take you to bed, sweetie?" he murmured.

"Couch. Closer." Kurt lifted his lover with a little struggle, but still carried him over to the couch, laying him down as carefully as he could, only to be pulled down onto Blaine's chest. "Love 'ou so much..."

"I love you, too, Bee..."

"Gotta go, soon, though," the elder man mumbled into Kurt's hair. The brunette just laughed quietly, and looked up from his chest.

"I called Sebastian, babe. You get to sleep in, and if you want to go to work at noon, _after _you've slept some more and eaten properly, then I won't protest."

Blaine blinked and suddenly seemed much more awake. His hands dropped from Kurt's back to his own sides. "Kurt."

"Hm?"

"Please, never, ever do that again." He spoke as if he was talking to an inconsiderate child. "Kurt, it's my _job_. I have to keep going, I can't just _take a day off whenever I'm tired._ I'm on an important case right now, and if we win, it could be absolutely break-through for me! It was wrong of you to-"

Kurt slid off of his fiancé's chest to his feet. "You don't have to talk down to me," he said, careful. Blaine sat up. "I thought I was doing what was best for you! And since when is it break through for _you?_ You said you only take cases like these for _us."_ He spoke carefully and hesitantly - they had only ever squabbled before, but Blaine's eyes were hard and cold. He didn't have it in him to fight, not truly, but he hadn't done anything _wrong._

Blaine just scowled. "Kurt, this is my _job_. It's not high school any more, we can't just take days off without a moment's notice-"

"You're taking yourself far too seriously. Blaine, you have not had a day off in about six months, and you're getting sick from exhaustion. Be serious, you need at least six hours sleep a night - you're getting two to four. I _thought _I was doing the right thing for you. Please don't talk to me as if I'm a child." He wasn't willing to fight, but he was _not_ willing to have Blaine treat him as if he was inferior. They were a couple: weren't they meant to be equals?

Blaine stood, and walked over to the table, beginning to pack his files into a case. He pulled on his belt, buckling it with overly-fiery movements. "Just because you have a job that isn't that important-"

"Educating our youth and protecting them from the world isn't _important?"_Kurt asked in a slightly raised voice.

Blaine honestly didn't know why they were arguing. He was tired, and sick, but he needed to get to work. It _was_ for them, and Kurt didn't seem to understand that. "You know I didn't mean that, I just mean, it's important that this guy gets brought down before he fucking _rapes_ every single female in his team! And I'm the one who needs to bring him down. You already made me leave work _four hours early _yesterday, now you're asking me to take another six off? You're ridiculous!"

"I '_made you'?_ Blaine, you know how severe my panic attacks get - I was sexually assaulted - I thought you might care more about that than a case that you probably can't win!"

"I probably can't win, huh? I'd like to see you face up against a politician - you'd probably just faint from the terror of seeing someone with more than a pound of muscle on their body!"

"What the fuck are you implying, Blaine Anderson?"

"Oh, I'm not 'implying' anything! I just think you need to learn how to look after yourself and face the world!"

"You know what, Blaine, I _know _how to look after myself! And contrary to your belief, I face the world more than you ever have, Anderson! I suffered abuse for almost ten years of schooling, now I'm working in a high school that, unlike your prissy perfect school, _is _the world. There's abuse, there's pain, there's-"

"Don't you _dare _say that I haven't been through what you have. I had just the same! But for one less year, I probably had it worse than you, _Hummel_!"

"Do you wake up screaming every month or so? Do you have more scars than you do unmarred skin? Do you have panic attacks so severe that you can't breathe, that you're rendered into a sweating, screaming mess that can't see anything but a man that was about to rape you? Is that how it is for you?"

"You know what, Kurt? I wish you were normal, too! I wish you were just another guy that I could actually put up with, and I wouldn't have to look after, and that I could actually believe he doesn't deserve all the shit he gets!"

They both froze.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" He moved to touch his fiancé's shoulder, but was shoved away.

"Don't touch me!" the man shouted.

"Kurt!" Blaine went to hug him, but again, was shoved away - this time down onto the couch.

"I said 'don't touch me!'" he screamed. He backed out of the living room and into the kitchen to the front door. He snatched his keys up from the rack and ran out of the house, just trying to calm his breathing. He had been hurt more in his life - more hurtful things had been said, worse things had been done, but never by someone who he loved so much - who he thought loved _him _so much, in return.

Somehow he found his way to Wes and David's house, hot, wet tears on his cheeks and body shaking. What Blaine had said, in basic terms, did translate to 'you deserved it.' He knew that - he had always known that. It didn't mean that it didn't make him scared, angry, or upset. What had he done..? Just lived? Of course. That would be it. Even his fiancé thought he was a sick freak of nature, who basically deserved anything that came to him. Wes opened the door, cup of coffee in hand and a small smile on his lips. "Kurt, how nice to- oh my god. Kurt, what happened? What's wrong?" He put his coffee down on the floor, and put a tentative arm around his friend, leading him inside. "Kurt... buddy, you have to tell me what happened..."

"Wes..? Who is it?" David mumbled from the kitchen, walking out into the corridor. As soon as he saw Kurt, small and shaking, he looked a lot more awake. "Oh, kitten-boy..." He wrapped an arm around the man's other shoulder. "Where's Blaine?"

There was the sound of a phone ringing, and Trent's annoyed morning-voice.

"H-he... we..." Kurt broke then. With two of his best friends next to him, he broke. He couldn't breathe through the strength of his sobs, and cold sweat was pouring from his skin. He wasn't even embarrassed about his state of undress - he couldn't be bothered to care about how embarrassing breaking down was, all he knew, all he needed, and all he wanted was Blaine to take back what he had said so that these feelings would go away. The feelings of lack of worth, of self-hatred, self-loathing, self-pity of pain, and terror. Of course, though, the main feeling was that of being completely disgusting. Of feeling unworthy for even a maggot to touch your skin. That was what was overwhelming him.

David and Wes maneuvered Kurt onto one of the couches in the sitting room, just as Trent stumbled out of the opposing corridor with wide eyes. "Kurt..." he whispered. He dropped to his knees in front of the man and took his hands. "Kurt, honey, I need you to look at me," he said, quiet as a mouse. "Come on now... it's okay. Deep breaths." He was the only one apart from Blaine and Burt who knew how to calm Kurt down.

David ran to get the phone, only to summon Wes to it.

It took him a long time to get Kurt breathing, but as soon as he did breathe, he stopped crying. He was a shuddering, sweating ball of muffled sobs. "What happened, Kurty-cat?" he asked quietly.

"Blaine a-and I got i-in a-a f-fight," he breathed out. "He told me... he told me that I de-deserved it. Th-that I deserved ever-everything Karofsky and the bo-boy in my class did. A-and I can't help but believe him."

Trent looked ready to kill, David looked utterly astonished, and Wes was gaping at him from the phone in the corridor. "Oh, um. No. No, I can't say that's possible. I have to go." He hung up, and walked up behind David. He put both arms around his shoulders, and looked down at Kurt. "What boy in your class, Kurt?"

With a shuddering breath, Kurt explained what had happened the day before, from deciding to wear his skinny jeans to the fight the next morning. "I didn't know where else to go, I'm so so-sorry, I-I shouldn't ma-make myself a b-burden like this."

"Remember when A and I got in that huge fight before we broke up?" Trent asked quietly, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. "You were there for me when I cried, I'll be here for you. Wes, can you do anything about the boy who groped Kurt?"

"You won't give me his name, will you?" the Asian fellow inquired, chin rested on David's head. Kurt shook his head. "Then no. I can, however, try get a committee among the teachers assembled to request a talk for all the schools in the district about sexual assault/abuse... if you think that's necessary..."

"Of course it's fucking necessary," David growled. "Anything to keep Kurt safe from this happening again."

Kurt, tentatively, pulled Trent up to his side and rest his head in the crook of his shoulder. "Wes, you sh-should ge-get to work," he said, trying to hold back his stutter.

"Yes, yes, I should," Wes mumbled. "I'm... I'm meant to be meeting Blaine for coffee tonight-" Kurt flinched. So much for Blaine working from five or six until eight or nine... what on earth else could he be keeping from Kurt? Another lover wouldn't even surprise him, at that point. "I want to hit him, but you would hate me for that, wouldn't you?"

"Not at this point, no," Kurt choked out. "Can you...?" He sat up straight and pulled his engagement ring from his finger and placed it in Wes's open palm. He winced as he saw the man's wedding ring. Plain and silver, just like Kurt and Blaine's were going to be. "Keep it, throw it away, give it to him, I don't care. I don't want it any more."

"Kurt, keep it. Just for a while."

"He shouldn't have to, Blaine's a fucking arse!" David protested. "Kurt, if you don't want this engagement anymore, then don't force yourself to keep the ring."

"Of co-course I still want t-th-the engagement. B-B-Blaine's the lo-love of my li-life, I just don't know if I'm hi-his - he cl-clearly doesn't w-want me," the brunette said with all the pride he could muster, before he crumpled again, into Trent's shoulder. "Please just keep it," he whispered. He was defeated. Completely and utterly defeated.

Somehow, Kurt found it in himself a few hours later to get up from the couch where he was curled up around a sleeping Trent, to take a shower and borrow some of Wes and David's clothes, and to finally head back to work. His first class of the day featured his worst array of students - mandatory, in comparison to elective, English classes were never fun. Of course the young man who had groped him was in that class. Of _course _he was."Mister M-Martin, this is Mister Kurt H-Hummel, I'm A-A-Adam's E-English teacher," he said in his most 'normal,' (A.K.A. 'straight') voice.

"Ah, yes, Adam's told me all about you. He speaks very highly of you - he's quite the fan," the man on the other end of the line said. Kurt's stomach churned painfully.

"I'm so-sorry I can't say the same to h-him. His beh-behaviour in my classes has been completely in-inappropriate. I'm sorry to have to tell you th-this, but he's been vulgar in behaviour a-and language, and he's made many of the girls - and boys, f-for that matter - ve-very unco-uncomfortable." It wasn't lying, technically. It was just vague exaggeration. "I'm just cal-calling to tell y-you that I'm su-suspending your son for t-three days. This h-has the prin-principal's approval, of c-course, and I think Adam wi-will be expecting it."

Mister Martin was very quiet. "I'm sorry he's caused so much trouble," was what he settled for at last.

"It's... we-well, we both kn-know it's not quite 'fine,' bu-but I'll say t-that it is fo-for politeness's s-sake." He let out a little laugh, still trying to keep his voice lowered.

"He's done something real bad, hasn't he?"

"I'm not su-sure what you me-mean, si-sir."

"Adam says you're the kindest, most lenient teacher in the whole school - you haven't suspended a student before."

"Mister Martin..." He sighed very deeply. He wasn't going to out the boy. "H-he groped o-one of the staff-members. She doe-doesn't want to pr-press charges, o-or even say th-that it happened, but s-she does want him pun-punished for it. He needs to u-understand that it's inappropriate to grope _a-anyone_, let alone so-someone almost te-ten years older th-than him."

"I wish I didn't believe you," Mister Martin said. "I swear I'll talk to him. I just need you to give me your word that you're tellin' the absolute truth."

"You will _only _h-hear truth from m-mee about m-my students, M-Mister M-Martin."

"Good... well, not good, but... thanks, Mister Hummel. I'll see you in the principal's office soon, I would imagine."

"Thank y-you, Mister M-Martin." Well, that was that managed, at least temporarily.

* * *

When he got to Wes and David's house, Trent was still there, laughing at the program on the television. "Kurt!" he cried with a softer smile. "How are you doing, kiddo?"

"I'm only on-one year younger th-than you, I hope y-you realize," said Kurt, collapsing on the couch next to him with no grace what-so-ever.

Trent put an arm around him, trying to keep his eyes from going wide. "Your stutter's back."

"An-and it will be back until _an-another_ Prince Eric c-comes along and co-convinces m-m-me that I'm worth m-more than a-a rabies-i-infested rat."

"I always did have a crush on you, Kurt. Wanna give me a spin?" Trent waggled his eyebrows enthusiastically, and Kurt offered him a small smile. He shrugged.

"Y-you can try convince m-me that I did-didn't deserve to g-get sexually assaulted twice, b-but I'm not s-sure that anyone can, now. I tr-trusted Blaine with ev-everything. I gave him _e-everything._I... I thought he'd al-always be there. I do-don't know if I'm ev-ever going to trust so-someone enough to bel-believe them again."

"Come here. Can I cuddle you?"

Kurt's face relaxed, just a little bit. "You ca-can _always_ cud-cuddle me." They shuffled in closer, Kurt resting his head on Trent's shoulder as the older man put an arm around him.

The next day, at four past seven in the morning, Wes knocked on Kurt's temporary-bedroom door with a bouquet of scarlet-red roses in his arm. "Blaine left these for you," he said quietly, as Kurt pulled his belt on. "There's a card, right, um, here!" He handed both to the younger man, who took them with a small nod and a smile.

'_Kurt, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Love, Blaine xo xo,'_it read. Kurt bit his quivering lower lip and tried to hold himself strong. He succeeded, of course. He was Kurt Hummel-once-to-be-Anderson, after all.

"Th-thanks, Wes. Have a good da-day at wo-work, okay?" He smiled, and Wes reached out to ruffle his hair, only to be slapped away (gently). "Not the hair."

"Not the hair," the elder of the two echoed, instead shaking Kurt's hand rather firmly. "I... have I ever mentioned how much I respect you, Kurt?"

"Ple-please, don't, Wes... I appreciate how good y-you're be-being to me, but I do-don't want mindless compliments."

"They aren't mindless. But I'll respect your wishes." Wes smiled and left Kurt in his room alone. The brunette bit his lower lip hard enough to bleed, and dropped the roses on his fresh-made bed. His heart was aching, and there was a lump in his throat. They were the same type of roses as the one so many years ago, when Blaine asked out Kurt for the first time.

The next day was the same, but this time with white and violet roses. "Wes? Please t-tell Blaine f-for your itty-bitty daily co-coffee date that he-he needs to _stop _sending me flowers? And that he should just go find someone else," Kurt snapped the moment he got home, just as Wes pulled on his jacket.

"I'm not seeing Blaine today, Kurt. I'm going out with David... it's been exactly twenty years since we met, so..."

"Don't tell him that," David ordered, putting an arm around his husband. "By the way, Kurt, you're super cute when you're pissed off." He winked, and Wes just sighed.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, imperious. David raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, you're super _hot _when you're pissed off. And your stutter's gone again! That's super hot, too, and-"

"I don't need to-to be flirted with. Go fl-flirt with your own husband. Shoo! Go! Run away!"

"He's kicking us out," stage-whispered David. "Babe, he's kicking us out. Oh my God, we knew it was coming. How long have you been wanting us to leave? How long have you been cheating on us, Kurt?" he asked. Kurt bit back a grin, but Wes whacked his husband over the back of the head.

"Sometimes I think you're more in love with Kurt and Trent than you are me," Wes mumbled as he pulled David out the door.

Kurt let himself smile, and nodded. Perhaps, with a little help from his friends, things would be okay.

* * *

The next day he didn't get flowers. He got a C.D. that he immediately threw into Trent's room, accidentally waking the man from his slumber. "Kurt, listen to this, man," he begged as he came out into the kitchen. He tossed the C.D. at Kurt's head, but it was caught from mid-air.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Kurt!"

"Trent, he said that I deserved to be sexually abused. A playlist isn't going to fix that. Maybe one day, I'll be able to believe that he didn't mean it and go back to him, only to get hurt a-again, but for now, I nee-need to learn how to keep _myself_ stable. I'm the most dangerous weapon to myself, but I'm the only one that can heal the wounds that others have inflicted. And wow, I didn't mean for that to sound so preachy, but... Trent... I haven't been independent for a whole five minutes in my entire life. I need to face my own problems. I need to face that boy _without _Blaine or David or Sebastian suing him."

Trent walked up to him and pulled him into a hug. "I like this Kurt. 'New and improved, independent, proud, strong black woman-"

Kurt cuffed him over the side of the head with a small laugh. "'I don't need no man to make me happy.'"

They fell on top of each other, laughing. "Seriously, though," said Trent. "Listen to the fucking C.D.."

* * *

Each day for the next week, Kurt received some sort of gift. From his favourite brand of cologne to his favourite cheesecake, to more flowers to more C.D.s, everything was given to him. Kurt just threw everything at Trent. He didn't want objects as an apology. He wanted remorse, and he wanted sincerity. A bloody cheesecake wouldn't undo what Blaine had said.

The hardest part of his days were the English was back, and although he was subdued, he was still there. Every time he saw the boy he could feel firm hands on his arse and hear a gravelly voice whispering filthy words into his ear - not even in the pleasant 'oh, my boyfriend's in a bad mood today' way. "Adam," he called one day after class. "Would you stay back for a moment?"

The rest of the class 'ooh'ed. "Adam's in trouble," sing-songed one girl.

The blonde boy was hunched over as he made his way towards the teacher's desk. "What do you want?" he snapped as soon as the rest of the class was gone.

"I want you to sit down and talk to me. I think you owe me that, considering you sexually assaulted me," Kurt said very cordially.

Adam flinched and dragged a chair up to the desk to sit across from the elder man. "I didn't..."

"Yes, you did," Kurt told him gently. "And it's not okay. Your dad agrees."

"You told my dad?" shouted Adam, his hands turning to fists.

"Your dad thinks you groped a female, because I didn't want to out you to him. I'm not that type. But I still want an explanation for what led you to lusting after a teacher, then touching him in what was a clearly inappropriate manner, that could have left him extremely... well, messed up."

Adam remained silent, and bit his lower lip. "Adam... you're a good boy. You sometimes talk out of turn, you sometimes make inappropriate comments, but that's _normal._I want to know why you sexually harassed me, and we aren't leaving until I do."

The blonde boy whimpered. "Please stop saying I... I never meant... I just thought..."

"You just thought you'd conduct a really bad move and suddenly have a teacher for a boyfriend?" Adam blushed and shrugged. "Are you... are you gay, Adam? Or have you just got a thing for teachers?"

"I'm gay, sir," Adam whispered.

"Does your dad know?"

"N-no. Please don't tell him! He'd hate me!"

"Hey, no... Adam, your dad loves you. I can tell from one conversation with him that he loves you, and I don't think anything could stop that. Now. Want to hear a story?"

"O-okay..." the sophomore boy whispered.

"There was once a boy who was very openly gay. He was... all designer, all Broadway, all Lady Gaga-"

"Who?"

"You're too young to remember her. Just go with it. Anyway, there was another boy. He was gay, too, but he was scared. He was very scared, and he couldn't bring himself to come out of the closet. He was scared of what the rest of the football players would do, he was scared of what his parents would do, he was scared of what the world would do to punish him for being so 'wrong.' But he was madly, head-over-heels infatuated with boy number one. He wanted him. And that scared him. So, he was scared of this boy, who was getting abuse for being gay everyday anyway. And he added to that abuse." Kurt gulped and sighed. "They both got more and more scared everyday - of each other. Eventually, though, the in-the-closet boy got so scared and so angry that he just snapped. He hurt the out boy so badly that he wouldn't talk, walk, barely even breathe for months. That first boy was left shattered, but the second was overwhelmed with guilt, anger, upset and confusion. He would go on to date, and abuse _women._ He never got stopped, because he was so scared himself that one day... he got sick of it all. He tried to kill himself." Adam was crying. "I _never _want you to be that second boy, Adam, but the way you're going, then one day you might be."

"I-I'm so sorry, Mister H.! I j-just... I di-didn't think, I never me-meant to hurt you!"

"Hey, hush, it's okay." Adam just cried harder. Kurt reached across the desk and took the boy's hand. "Hey. I forgive you." He smiled, and the blonde boy almost smiled, too. "I'd offer a hug, but that would be completely unprofessional. So I'll just stick with a word of advice: trust the love of your parents, okay? Know that they brought you into the world, and the likelihood is that they will never, ever stop loving you. Okay?"

"Okay," Adam whispered. He took a tissue from the desk and wiped at his eyes. "Mister H.?"

"Yes, Adam?"

"What happened to the first boy?" he asked quietly.

"He... he was saved. By the love of his life. Then he was broken again, and realized that... that he needed to save himself, this time."

Adam gave him a watery smile. "Thank you. I'm going to... I'm going to go home and tell my parents."

"Great, Adam. Good luck!"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." A true smile split across his face as he dropped the tissue in the bin and ran from the room.

Kurt just let out a breath and smiled. This was what he wanted to do with his life. Help like no-one had helped himself, Karofsky, Trent, Nick, Jeff, or Blaine. He would have died happy, at that moment, because he knew that he might have just _saved _a life, in his own special way.

* * *

That group of four was disturbed by a knock on the door. "I'll get it!" chirruped Kurt. Everyone looked shocked.

"Did you..?"

Kurt just shrugged and jogged out into the hallway to the door. There was another rapping on the wood. "Hel- Sebastian." Kurt's expression fell flat. "Hello. What... are you looking for David? I'll go grab him-"

"I was looking for you, actually. You broke my best lawyer."

Kurt's gaze went stony. "And you think he didn't break me?"

"Look, Anderson-to-be. I have no idea what happened, but Blaine's showing up to work then literally passing out on his desk every two days. He's working his arse off, but it's not quality work, and he's been _crying_ in the _bathrooms._ Whatever he did to you, I don't care, but you broke him, so fucking fix him, would you?"

"He's the one was the one that said that I... anyway, I did nothing to him but leave him to dwell on his actions, and quite possibly fuck you, as far as I can tell."

"Blaine never slept with me!" Sebastian was bristling. "Look, we hate each other, but this case could make or break Blaine's career-"

"A career he doesn't want!"

"I don't care, Kurt! Look, I'm mad at Blaine, sure, and whatever he said was probably awful, but this is his job, and his livelihood! Can you just... give him some fucking closure? He's wearing both of your engagement rings, for fuck's sake, but he doesn't even live with you any more!"

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat. "Talk to him yourself!" he yelled. With that, he slammed the door in Sebastian's face.

"Fine, I will!" he shouted back.

"Who was that?" Trent asked as soon as Kurt came back into the room.

"Some prick." Kurt smiled sweetly.

"I miss sweet little high school Kurt. He was so... sincere and polite. As soon as you turned twenty and you and the ex got you into dirty talk-"

"First of all, Blane and I never, ever dirty-talked. That was a complete misunderstanding on your part, and second of all... is he really my ex?"

"You haven't spoken in a week. You stormed out in tears. He said some things that are unforgivable, and you haven't forgiven him yet, not that you necessarily should," said David, more calmly than ever.

"B-but... I still love him," Kurt whispered. He sat down next to Trent.

"Sometimes you aren't with the person you love, honey," said he. "He still loves you, too, but you both need to dwell on yourselves for a time, then, maybe, you'll be together again."

The man bit the inside of his lip. "I just... I can't... he's so much... he's so much of me."

"And look how you are on your own, Kurt? You're a beautiful, confident, proud young black woman-" Wes snorted a bit of wine out of his nose. "-who needs no-one to make him a well-rounded person."

"But what if I want more than that? What if I want Blaine back?"

"Then go find him," David said. "But you need to know that you might... Kurt, you know what happened with Karofsky and Adam - you may panic, and he's... you're never going to forget what he said."

"No... but I might be able to forgive him... maybe." Everyone was silent. "You know what, I'm just going to... go have a shower. And get dressed for bed. And see how I feel in the morning." He didn't wait for anything but a chorus of 'goodnight's, and jogged up the stairs to his temporary-bedroom. He realized then that he was thinking of it as a temporary home. He was thinking that he would either be moving on... or moving back with Blaine.

He curled up under his bedsheets that night, thinking. He didn't want to go back to the Blaine who was basically verbally abusing him. He also didn't want his high school sweetheart, any more. He wanted _Blaine_. All 'round, silly, dorky, loving, lov_able_ Blaine, who would do anything for anyone if it meant that thy would smile. So he needed to figure out if he was safe with Blaine or not. From what he could tell, he wasn't. Blaine was a very affectionate person, naturally, and would do anything in means of apologizing. All he had done was send tokens of affection. Flowers, gifts, _food_ (of all things)... he sent tokens like that to his _mother_ and he hated and loved her in equal quantities. It seemed so superficial - there was no meaning behind the apologies. He wanted... no, _needed_something he could believe.

It took a month. A month for him to get that something.

Everyday, Blaine would call. Everyday, they would exchange pleasantries, and then, as soon as Blaine apologized, Kurt would hang up. Because he didn't _mean it._ He didn't mean it when he _said _that he hadn't meant it. He was just saying it because he missed Kurt - he wanted him back, but that didn't mean that he didn't think that Kurt had deserved it... or that's what Kurt thought, anyway.

On the third of December, however, Wes, Trent, David and Nick went out to 'celebrate' a full year of Nick being single. Kurt didn't want to participate in that particular event. Honestly, he had known that Nick and Jeff wouldn't last - very few high school sweethearts did, but that didn't mean that it wasn't heartbreaking. So, he decided to call his favourite blonde. "Hey, Jeffy!"

"Kurt? Oh my God, Kurty-cat! We haven't spoken in ages - I still haven't got my wedding invitation, you know!"

"Oh... Jeff... Blaine and I..."

Jeff could be heard gulping. "You broke up?" he whispered.

"I don't know, honey... we haven't seen each other in a month and a half. He said... he said some really bad stuff, I walked out."

"What did he say? Blaine's so... so passive, he would never... he didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No! No, not... not physically. He just... you really want to hear me complain about how my high school romance didn't work out?" He winced. He had no tact what-so-ever.

"Of course I do. I love you lots."

So Kurt explained, yet again, everything that had happened, with detailed descriptions of the feeling of his heart being ripped out and bugs crawling across his flesh as he relived everything that Karofsky had done to him, then what Adam had said and done... Jeff could be heard sniffling a little. "Kurty-cat... do you know how Nick and I broke up?" he asked at last.

"No. I heard you had a fight that woke up the entire neighbourhood, though."

"He was getting really stressed with work, just like Blaine was. He wasn't sleeping, and he was working on a documentary about a trans-bashing, of all things. He... he was reliving so much, and he was hurting so much. He was... God, he was a wreck. One night, he got angry at me for not doing the dishes like I had promised - stupid, I know - but anyway, he ended up calling me a 'fag.' It wasn't because he... he meant it. It was because he was... stupid and sleep-deprived, and hurting and confused. You know how bad his dysphoria gets sometimes? Well he was almost talking to himself."

"Blaine wasn't, though..."

"What had you said just before he told you that you deserved it?"

"I said... I'd said that he hadn't been through as much as I had."

"How do you think that made him feel? Like his pain wasn't valid, perhaps? Now that's a cruel thing to say, Kurt. His pain is just as valid as yours, even if he hasn't been through as much as you. I _know_ you didn't mean it like that, but that's how he saw it, I'm betting. So he lashed out. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you're in a fight, 'comparing how much pain you've been through'? The subject matter. The pain that the other has been through. I'm not excusing Blaine. It was very wrong of him, but he realized what he had said just after he did, right? It was because he had lashed out. He had never had the thought before-hand... It's too late for Nick and I, Kurty-cat, but maybe it's not too late for you and Blaine. He _loves you._He would give up everything for you, and you him. That doesn't mean either of you aren't human. He lashed out first, sure, but you lashed out, too, as humans do. So... if you don't feel safe with him, then don't go back to him - that was how it was for Nick and I, we just didn't feel safe with each other any more - but if you feel like he actually is sorry, that he didn't mean it, and that you can forgive him... then don't give up, Kurt. You have a timeless love. One for the story-books. I would give up everything myself to preserve that. So just..."

Kurt was wide-eyed, laying on his side with his legs pressed to his chest. "Oh my God. Jeff... I love you, so much."

"I love you, too. Did that... I hope that wasn't _pointless_rambling. Did that sort out anything for you?"

"Oh, yes."

Jeff smiled on the other end of the line. "I'm really glad. Is it too late for you to go find him, where you are? I forget the time-zones easily..."

"Where are you now, by the way? And no. I hope it's not too late..."

"Los Angeles, baby," Jeff said playfully. "Go on, then! Hurry up and go get your honey!"

"Have I mentioned I love you?" Kurt asked as he pulled on his coat.

"Yes, but I can never get enough of it."

"Then, I love you."

"I love you-" Kurt hung up at that, grabbing his keys and tucking his phone into his pocket. As soon as he was on the street, he saw a cab. He waved it down with the most small of small smiles on his lips.

* * *

He walked into the apartment to find Blaine on the couch, sobbing and curled up around himself. Kurt's eyes went wide. Blaine was _crying?_ In all the time that he had known him, Blaine had cried a total of three times. Not once in the past two years, and now he was _broken._His stubble was thick, his hair was a knotted mess, and he was still wearing his least-favourite suit. He was repeating a mantra under his breath, one that Kurt couldn't hear.

"Blaine," he whispered.

Blaine shot up as if he had just heard that a bomb was about to drop. "Kurt?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. He tried to speak, but he was cut off by sobs.

The brunette man came to his side, and tentatively rested a hand on Blaine's shoulder, holding him steady on the chair. Blaine stared up at him with such hope, yet such hopelessness in his eyes that Kurt's heart throbbed painfully in his chest. "Hey, hey..." He stroked a hand through Blaine's fringe of curls.

"A-are you here for your st-stuff?" he asked through his shortness of breath.

"No, honey, I'm here to talk to you."

Blaine whimpered and bit the inside of his lip. "I'm so sorry," he choked out.

"I know, I know... I just want to know why you said it, Blaine. God knows that nobody deserves treatment like I got, so I want to know why I _did."_

"You didn't! You don't! Kurt, I wasn't thinking... I was just... so pissed off, and tired, and I said what I thought would hurt you most, because you had hurt me, even if it was only a fraction, and, and I hurt you too much, I should never hurt you! I promised not to hurt you, and now I've gone and fucked up everything, and _Kurt..._ I'm _so sorry._"

Kurt continued to stroke his hands through Blaine's hair. "And I forgive you," he murmured as he leaned down to press a kiss to the man's sweaty forehead. "I never stopped loving you, Blaine... but I have to say, if you _ever_, ever say _anything _like that again, I will not hesitate to leave you." Blaine was gasping through his sobs, a shaking smile on his lips. "I've done... a lot of soul-searching. And I've helped out a student. And realized that I don't need a relationship to be a valid person... so I don't... no-one's ever going to hurt me again without... without knowing that what they did was wrong. Ever."

"You're not leaving me?" Blaine asked, breathless.

"No." Kurt's features twisted upwards into a smile. "No. No, I'm not." He cradled Blaine's chin in his hands and pressed a light kiss to his lips. "'And I will love you until the end of time.' You meant it when you said it, and I meant it when I said it."

"_Kurt."_Blaine wrapped Kurt up in his arms and just breathed in his scent, held him close, cherished and loved him. "Kurt, Kurt, Kurt..."

"Come on," the brunette mumbled into Blaine's greasy hair. "Go get in the shower, then come to bed, okay?"

"O-okay... will you..?" Nothing more needed to be said.

"Of course." So Kurt half-carried his lover into the bathroom, carefully stripping him of his filthy clothes and kissing his forehead. "I am _not_kissing you again until you brush your teeth," he threatened, drawing a laugh from the other man as he was stripped of his own clothing.

So they stepped under the flow of the warm water together, their eyes locked on one-another's as they washed their bodies down.

They didn't bother getting dressed again - they just put on underpants and lay down next to each other, face-to-face with their noses brushing. "I love you," Blaine whispered.

"I love you, too," Kurt whispered back. He took his lover's hand, drew his own engagement ring from Blaine's finger, and slid it back onto his own. "And now you have a promise... and I have a promise... that it's almost-" He bit the inside of his lip as a thought struck him. "Blaine."

"Yeah?"

"Let's get married, okay?"

Blaine looked a little confused. "We _are_engaged."

"No, I mean... now. Tonight. I don't want to wait. I want to make it official. I want... us and the world to know that we're forever."

"Kurt... are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure. Marry me. Fuck, Blaine, marry me."

Blaine looked joyful, and pressed their lips together. "I love being American. Let's get hitched," he said playfully. The brunette hit his arm gently. "Fine. But... later... I want a proper ceremony, okay? With people and a cake and flowers, okay?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Okay. Okay." He brushed their noses together. "Let's get dressed. I'll make a phone call."

"Blaine, I love you."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"That's impossible."

They both just laughed and shook their heads.

Half an hour later they were both fully dressed, Blaine in a plain black suit and red and blue bow-tie, and Kurt in white boots, dark-wash jeans and a thin white sweater, adorned with a black, skull-emblazoned scarf.

"Is that..?" Blaine kissed down Kurt's cheek, not allowing himself to touch his lips.

"The outfit I wore on our first date?" the brunette offered, nodding.

"You kept it?"

"I didn't want... I couldn't throw it away. Now come on. Let's go." They twined their fingers together and left their little apartment.

* * *

"Do you, Kurt Hummel, take this man, Blaine Anderson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Their hearts raced in their chests. "I do," Kurt whispered.

"And do you, Blaine Anderson, take this man, Kurt Hummel, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Their eyes locked on one another's. "I do."

"I now pronounce you officially married. You may kiss."

Blaine cupped Kurt's jaw in his hand and pressed their lips together in the most gentle of gentle kisses. Their lips remained joined for several long seconds, but there was nothing physically passionate about it. It was just their love, passion, and devotion represented in one simple motion. "We sign, now?" Blaine asked quietly, forehead on Kurt's.

"Here, and here, Mister Anderson," the celebrant confirmed with a tight smile. She offered him a pen, and he scrawled his signature slowly, carefully. Kurt imitated him a few moments later. His signature was a bit different than it had been before, though. It wasn't 'K.E.H.' anymore. It was 'K.A-H.'

They hadn't agreed on a shared last name, but 'Anderson-Hummel' seemed pretty perfect, to them. "I love you, so much," Blaine whispered, one tear trickling down his cheek. Kurt brushed it away with his thumb, and joined their lips together one more time.

* * *

The next morning they woke up wrapped around each other, Blaine's head buried in the crook of Kurt's neck, their legs tangled, to the sound of Blaine's phone ringing.

"Ignore it," Kurt begged, nuzzling his nose into his _husband's_cheek. "Please."

"Hm... okay." They smiled into each others' skin and tried to block out the sounds of Katy Perry coming from the little device.

They were somehow drawn into a kiss, slow and leisurely. They had their hands _everywhere_, but eventually, they twined together.

"Kurt," Blaine mumbled onto his love's throat. "This is the third time the phone's rung."

"Get it, then," Kurt ordered with a little pout. Blaine, of course, did as he was told.

"Hello... yes, hello, Sebastian, good morning to you, too. Okay... what is it?" He mouthed 'I'm sorry' to his husband. "Oh my God... are you serious? Yes! Yes, yes yes! Excellent. Simply... excellent. Thank you. I'll be sure to check that. You know I don't love you, too, Seb, sorry. Yes, I know I'm mean... I have never heard you so happy in your life. So... to break this rut... this is my two weeks notice! Bye!" Blaine burst into laughter, his eyes shining as he looked down at Kurt. The brunette sat up and put both arms around him.

"You _quit?"_

"We won the case," Blaine said. "We won the fucking case, Kurt! And... oh my God... we're going house shopping, basically."

Kurt raised his eyebrows, trying to look incredulous, but he cracked quite quickly, grinning. "What's next? Giving birth to baby Noahs?"

"Why not?" Blaine tumbled Kurt over, trapping him to the bed by his wrists. "We'd make great dads," he murmured into his husband's ear. "And we're married... and we're going to have a proper _house._And we are financially stable... and we're in love."

Kurt was blushing wildly. "How do I deserve someone like you?"

"Kitten, you deserve the _world._"

"And everything I own is legally half yours." They nodded together before breaking into a fit of giggles and mashing their lips together in a passionate, loving kiss.


End file.
